


Fight For Me

by AnnaofAza



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Battle, Castle Under Attack, Game of Thrones-inspired, Gen, Harry fights for his king, King Eggsy, Knight Harry, Knight Roxy, M/M, Princess Daisy - Freeform, Queen Michelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ll have to surrender,” his adviser says. “It seems like the most likely option.”</p><p>Eggsy has to make a crucial decision for his kingdom, as his knight battles outside the keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Where I don't "usually" write angst: originally posted on [ my tumblr.](http://annaofaza.tumblr.com/post/128831589898/i-kept-thinking-of-the-end-of-this-scene-in-game)

“You’ll have to surrender,” his adviser says. “It seems like the most likely option.”

Eggsy hears his mum moan, along with the other occupants locked in the vault for safety, and clenches his jaw. It has nothing to do with the ache in his side. “I don’t like that idea.” 

“If Valentine’s forces get into the keep, there’s no chance. Our army has been decimated by his weapons, and Valentine attacked after winter. Our stores are nearly empty. We can’t last a siege.” Merlin shakes his head, clad in his usual robes but with a crossbow at his side. “Charlie informed them well.”

Eggsy wishes that he could have punched that pompous, disloyal shit. “And Arthur…”

“Arthur is also a shit,” Roxy says, with a grimace. She shifts to one foot, armor creaking loudly in the mostly-silent room. “He knew what Valentine was planning. He was going to commit  _treason_ against you.”

“Didn’t let that happen, though.” Eggsy still remembers Arthur’s widening eyes at the slow-working bitter taste on his tongue. He’d fallen flat on his face right on the coronation feast table, and Harry had rushed over to Eggsy, armor clanking and trembling palms scrabbling over his throat and neck and face.  _You’re all right? You’re all right?_

 _I’m fine,_ he’d insisted, even as the knights loyal to Arthur had drawn their swords.  _Now, are we going to stand here, or are we going to fight?_

Fight they did, back to back, Harry’s white cloak slashed to bits by swords and Eggsy’s side bruised from a badly aimed morningstar. They both had been lucky that Roxy and Merlin had the foresight to lead his family and frightened guests into the vault before the carnage truly hit. 

“They might keep you alive, as puppet king,” Merlin now warns. “If you sing their song long enough, you may be able to quietly organize a coup.”

“Valentine isn’t known for being merciful. Especially not with Gazelle at his side.” 

Eggsy agrees with Roxy’s assessment; one of the former guards had literally been sliced in half by the assassin’s deadly bladed feet. He had been one of the best and longest-surviving Kingsman knights, along with Harry, and his death had shaken them all quite considerably. Roxy had stepped up in her uncle’s place, but Eggsy can tell she isn’t exactly cheered at the notion of fighting the famed Gazelle. 

“I thought you said Tilde’s forces were coming?” Michelle ventures, shifting her sleeping daughter onto her hip. The little princess sleeps quietly, blissfully unaware of the metal ringing and pained screams from outside. 

Merlin nods, but he looks uncertain. “Her lands are far away, and we only got the message to them five days ago. But she might not fight for you, though, Eggsy. You weren’t born and bred into your title…”

“He’s the rightful heir, no matter how much Arthur tried to stop his coronation.” Roxy’s voice is firm. “Besides, I know Princess Tilde. She’ll help us.” 

Eggsy can only hope. “Harry’s still out there,” he hesitantly says. 

“Harry’s one man, and his army is…commonfolk. Nothing wrong with that, lad,” Merlin amends at a glare from both Eggsy and Michelle, “but they’re untrained.” 

“They  _love_  Eggsy,” his mum says fiercely. 

Merlin sighs. “They love his story. Son of a dethroned king, who lived as a commoner to protect his identity and under the oppressive thumb of his stepfather. Then, brought back home by one of the old knights of Arthur…it’s a pretty song, but life is not one.” 

“You’re as cynical as ever,” Eggsy grumbles, but rises from his seat on the floor. “Okay. I’ll go to the throne room. And when those doors are smashed on the floor…”

“You’re not going alone,” Roxy protests. 

“But I’m not helpless.” Eggsy draws his sword. It’s a twin to Harry’s, melted from the same ore and forged in the same fire. The iron shines, even in the dim torchlight. Harry’s always lectured about proper care of weaponry. “I’m going to protect all of you.” 

Michelle’s eyes are wide. “But they can  _kill_ you.”

“If I get killed, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I need you,” he nods to Roxy and Merlin, “to get everyone out someplace safe. Harry’s family estate isn’t far.” He recalls warm candlelight and spiced wine, with the stables outside, where Harry had taught him to mount and joust and ride at a full gallop.  _A king must always know how to ride a horse._

 _I’m no king, Arthur says._ Eggsy had protested, fingers clumsily grasping the leather reins.  _I’m not…I’m not noble._

_He’s a fool. True nobility is who you are, not which house or what circumstances you were born into. You, Eggsy, are a king._

_Only because you brought me here. And tutoring me…_

_I’m not making you into a different man. I’m trying to get you to see the man you already are, and hide._ Harry had then smiled at Eggsy, sunlight falling across his face.  _Now, enough talk. Let’s race to the pond, and if you best me, we can hold the meal etiquette lesson for another day._

Eggsy had grinned.  _Yes, Harry!_  he’d hissed, just as his heels connected with his steed’s sides, and left the knight swearing furiously behind him. 

“Lad…” Merlin says, but Eggsy’s made up his mind. He locks eyes with his mum, and she nods, gaze suddenly steely. 

“Merlin, listen to your king. Help us get out of here alive.” 

Eggsy embraces her with muttered words to keep safe, kisses Daisy and tickles her chin, and shakes hands with Roxy, before she pulls him in and squeezes lightly at his waist. 

“If you die, I’ll bring you back to life and kill you,” she threatens, tears in her eyes. 

“Don’t doubt it.” Eggsy swallows. “Thank you. For being my friend.”

She hugs him tighter. 

Merlin blusters, but gives Eggsy a tiny vial from his cloak when his mum turns to address the people in the room. “Poison. In case…” 

“Will it be quick?”

“And painless,” the other man reassures him, with a soft, sad smile. “Like falling asleep.”

Eggsy nods firmly, and tucks it away. “Thank you, Merlin.” 

He then walks out without saying any more, only smiling and waving bravely at his mum and friends, as if he’s simply going to take an evening stroll. Repeats of goodbyes would stagger him, and he has to keep walking to an uncertain fate. 

The doors open, and Eggsy stands tall in front of the high-backed throne. The right side is noticeably empty. He pictures Harry in his armor and white cloak and sword, watching over him protectively, and swallows. The knight may have looked intimidating, but his hands were gentle when he’d showed Eggsy every step of the waltz, when he straightened Eggsy’s collar on his tunic, when he guided Eggsy’s fingers to rest on the high harp, when he pushed at his shoulders to improve Eggsy’s stance during their weapons lessons. 

_You, Eggsy, are a king._

He says a small prayer, even though he’s never been much for doing so, and grips his sword in his right hand. It’s lighter than many of the blades crafted in this castle; Eggsy’s been tutored by the older knight to incorporate his skills of speed and flexibility to his swordplay. _You shouldn’t just swing such a useful weapon around like a battle axe,_ Harry once said.  _You’re light and quick and versatile; spin around your enemies, turn their weight encrusted in heavy armor against them._

 It now feels heavy enough to hold with two.

 _Surrender,_ Merlin’s voice whispers, as the doors begin to shiver. He can hear people begin to shout, along with whinnies of horses and clashes of steel.

Eggsy could. He can swear loyalty and bend the knee, but what will become of his mum and sister, if they were captured, without their titles? Valentine had victor’s rights. He could kill them, sell them into slavery, or use them as collateral in case Eggsy tried to rebel. He might not have numbers, but those he’s surrounded with are loyal and true: Merlin, Roxy, and Harry. They would never abandon Eggsy. They would fall. 

But could he ask them to do that for him? Never mind their vows or friendship; they had a right to be alive as much as him, damn the so-called royal blood in his veins. 

 _Let them flee,_  he prays.  _Let them live, happy and safe, away from me._

His left hand briefly grips around the vial Merlin gave him.  _Please, please, I don’t want to have to use this._

The doors open, slowly, and Eggsy’s hit with the cool night breeze and the light of torches. But strangely, there is no screaming, no battle cries, no thundering hooves of horses. Only a man with both hands raising to take off his helmet, revealing gentle eyes and brown curls peppered with silver. 

 _“Harry,”_  Eggsy breathes, and lets his sword clatter to the floor.

The knight strides forward, bowing deeply. “My king, the battle is won. Princess Tilde came to our aid. Valentine’s forces are defeated. The kingdom is safe.” He then looks up, and Eggsy can see the relief in the other man’s face, despite the worrying amount of blood dripping from his forehead. “ _You’re_  safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love the scene at the end of the Blackwater battle in 'Game of Thrones,' where Cersei drops her vial full of poison and lets it shatter when she sees that the battle has been won, and this turned into Hartwin and my love for medieval genre.


End file.
